


Second-hand medicine

by amcw177



Series: The hacker and his spy [3]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:26:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amcw177/pseuds/amcw177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After handling a particularly frustrating rescue, Aomine isn't in the best of moods. Kuroko helpfully provides medical attention and some bonus distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second-hand medicine

**Author's Note:**

> There wasn't really a lot of time for intimacy in 'Maker-Breaker'. This is my attempt to remedy that. I was trying to think of something annoying, and at that point it was apparently The Chipmunks, hence the client's name.
> 
> Many thanks to andreaphobia for beta-ing!

Aomine slumps face-first onto the bed like a felled tree. He doesn’t even bother taking his shoes off, let alone his coat. “I hate people,” he ascertains, slightly muffled by the heap of soft pillows.

The bed wobbles a little as Tetsu sits down next to him. “Did you get Alvin to the safe house?”

Aomine half turns his head and squints, bleary-eyed. “Are you not the least bit interested why I hate people?”

“Sure.” Tetsu pats him on the shoulder and beckons him to sit up,.“You can tell me all about it after you’ve told me what happened with Alvin.”

Aomine grumbles but struggles onto all fours regardless. He unceremoniously flops down in Tetsu’s lap, groaning when his body reminds him of that night’s happenings. “He’s at the safe house with Kagami and this cop friend of his, whatshisface... Himuro?” Aomine mumbles and grasps Tetsu’s hand. He puts it on his head like a damp wash cloth and pokes Tetsu until he starts stroking. “He’s fine for now but if he keeps stealing money from the Russian mob not even we will be able to save him. That kid is just too dumb for words.”

“I reckon recent events will serve as a good reminder not to do it again,” Tetsu muses. His fingers thread through Aomine’s hair, gently pulling up wisps of it into messy spikes. Aomine is going to come out looking like a particularly tired Sid Vicious after this.

“I don’t think so,” Aomine reaches into his pocket and produces a golden watch. “Here, he nicked that off of one of the goons that jumped us.”

Tetsu examines the watch, frowning. He shrugs and puts it on the bedside table. “I’ll trade it in for some cash in the morning. I’m sure the children’s hospital down the block will be delighted over a donation.”

“You don’t have anything valuable in that safe house, do you?” Aomine wriggles around so that he can stare up a Tetsu. He gets to see the underside of a fond smile.

“Nothing that couldn’t be replaced.”

“Good,” Aomine relaxes again. “He would steal the shoes from your feet in mid-step if he could.”

“I’ll keep an eye on your shoes then.”

Aomine laughs but it turns into a pitiful cacophony of coughing and wheezing. He is an incredibly skilled fighter but when six angry Russians come at him with batons and fucking _cattle prods_ while a pimple-faced teenager spurs them on from the sidelines even he doesn’t get away entirely unscathed.

He feels Tetsu bow down to place a kiss on top of his head, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Aomine holds up his arms, “Carry me?”

Tetsu’s answer is a pillow to his face.

\---

Aomine makes a noise like a dying squirrel. At least, that’s what Tetsu says it sounds like.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be contacting Midorima-kun?” Tetsu asks when Aomine does the squirrel impression for the fifth time.

Doctor Midorima may be a medical genius but he has the soft skills of a patch of moss, and the gingerliness of a six-inch steel plate. Aomine shakes his head, hastily, “No, no, I think you’re doing fine. Just, you know, don’t touch anything? Too much, I mean.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Tetsu tosses the cotton swab onto the small heap of used medical supplies on the floor. He gives Aomine’s exposed torso an assessing look. “But you look like a violent Monet painting.”

Aomine twists and turns to take a look at what he supposes took the most hits - his back, and probably his left side. From this angle everything looks horrible. “Nah, it’s fine,” he lies. “Just put some of that ointment on it that Midorima gave us the last time and it’ll all look much better in the morning.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Aomine waves Tetsu’s objections off like pesky flies. He’s had worse beatings, really. Half of his pain stems from the mental agony that Alvin causes, anyway.

With his incessant babbling and antagonizing of people who want to murder them Alvin seems constantly in search of the most effective answer to ‘How fast can I jump out of the frying pan and into the fire?’.

Aomine wriggles onto his stomach so that Tetsu has better access to his back. He punches the pillow under his chin into shape, imagining it to be Alvin’s face. It helps. A little.

He flinches when Tetsu begins to apply the ointment but he soon gets used to the gentle pressure. It stings in places, which jolts him back to full awareness, but in between he almost drifts off to sleep.

“You should always be my doctor,” Aomine mumbles into the pillow, smiling. “You are much better than Midorima.”

Tetsu lightly smacks him on the shoulder, “I think with the amount of trouble we have already caused him you should be grateful he hasn’t amputated anything yet.” He pinches Aomine’s butt cheek playfully, beckoning Aomine to sit up.

Aomine heaves a theatrical sigh and worms his way into a seated position, lazily lifting his arms so that Tetsu can wind the bandages around him. “I don’t think he would go through that much trouble.”

“You may be right,” Tetsu secures the bandage and gives his handiwork a tentative prod. Aomine winces but covers it up with a confident smile. It should hold for now. “I’m sure Midorima has ways of disposing of bodies,” Tetsu says as he leans up to kiss Aomine’s chin.

Aomine means to laugh but it gets stuck in his throat when he realises that Takao does tend to carry an abnormally large number of bloody bed sheets back and forth. And nobody knows where they go. He sure as hell can’t just dump them in the trash.

“Okay, okay,” Aomine admits, pulling Tetsu closer. “He’s the doctor. But you’re the cure.”

He is immensely proud of this one-liner, however cheesy. And he is even more delighted when Tetsu merely smiles indulgently and snuggles up for another kiss. They topple over onto the sheets and, to his chagrin, Aomine has to break the kiss in favour of inspecting whether his rib is poking out of his body or he is growing another human out of his side.

It is neither but it sure feels that way. Tetsu heaves a tiny sigh and rolls off of him.

“No, no, don’t stop,” Aomine whines. “It was-... the mattress, it was the mattress.”

“Shut up,” Tetsu mutters while tugging Aomine’s boxers down and off his legs. He settles between Aomine’s thighs, giving Aomine’s leg a hefty squeeze.

“Ow!” Aomine thought he liked where this was going. He doesn’t anymore. “What you do that for?”

“Testing,” Tetsu says and gives Aomine a contemplative look. “You didn’t make the squirrel noise.”

“Uhm, okay?” Aomine agrees cautiously. “So, what’s the verdict, doc?”

“I thought we’d already established that I am not your doctor,” Tetsu admonishes but there is a wicked edge to his voice that Aomine can’t help but be excited to hear. “If I were, it is highly unlikely that I would do this.”

And by ‘this’, he means putting his lips on Aomine’s cock and slowly letting it slip into his mouth. Aomine gasps, throwing his head back.

“Oh, shit!” He exclaims before he can stop himself. Laughter bubbles up in his throat and it aches in his chest but he can’t stop. He smiles even wider because it’s stupid, and it hurts, and then it doesn’t anymore. He can pinpoint the exact moment the pleasure overtakes the pain in their breathtaking race for his attention. Tetsu is definitely winning. His hands are steady on Aomine’s hips, carefully applying pressure to keep Aomine from moving too much. It’s probably less for his own safety than Aomine’s.

Aomine lets all the frustration that today has brought him bleed out of him. He writhes with Tetsu’s movements as best as he can, turning the neatly bound bandages into a knotty mess on his back. Tetsu will just have to redo them afterwards. Aomine can’t be held responsible when Tetsu is the one who instigated this. He, of all people, should know what it does to Aomine when he hollows his cheeks around Aomine’s dick, and Aomine can feel himself sliding deeper into Tetsu’s mouth.

He wants to hold on to this feeling for as long as possible, this spectacular sensation of being suspended between anticipation and fulfillment, all at the hands of Tetsu, who knows him better than he knows himself. He wants to call out ‘Wait!’ but the only thing that makes it past his lips is a string of obscene moans. Tetsu is just too damned good. By the time Tetsu lets go of his hips Aomine’s body is tingling like he is made of fucking fairy dust. He forgets about all the bruises, however briefly. His mind is too busy blanking out than to waste any attention on the leftovers of tonight’s brawl.

In the end he loses the battle for restraint, of course. He has just enough time to tap Tetsu’s head in warning but that’s about all the holding back he manages. He shivers, arching his back, as his climax sweeps any recollection of pain from his thoughts. He is probably going to regret a lot of this in a few minutes but for now he feels like the happiest wrung-out towel in the world.

“Better?” Tetsu wipes his mouth and clambers over Aomine to nestle next to him.

Aomine laughs and in his post-orgasmic bliss it doesn’t even hurt that much, “Oh yeah! This should be standard treatment.”

“Doable,” Tetsu nods with a tiny smirk. “Although, I would rather not see you beaten up beforehand all the time.”

“I’ll do my best,” Aomine chuckles, offering his outstretched arm for Tetsu to lie on. This side seems to be blissfully wound-free. Tetsu snatches one corner of the blanket and rolls back on over to him like a humanoid burrito. Fortunately, there is room for one more.

“You know, we’ll have to think of something more permanent for Alvin,” Tetsu murmurs.

Aomine groans, “You know how to pull a man right out of the clouds, Tetsu. But I can think of a few permanent solutions, no problem.”

Tetsu knees him in the thigh, “Not that kind of permanent. Rather... something that will keep him busy and out of trouble.”

Aomine sighs, “I’ll think of something. But I swear, if his number pops up one more time I’m gonna throw it in a bin and be done with it.”

“Okay,” Tetsu whispers, sleepily. They both know Tetsu would never let him do that and Aomine likes Tetsu’s happy face far too much to disappoint him.


End file.
